When The Truth Is A Lie
by Xe Feral
Summary: Xe Feral seemed the ideal choice for the Nerevarine, he was a well-respected Ashlander, who firmly believed in the prophecies, but there was one problem; an outlander had already claimed to fulfill the prophecies. Possibly some mm so homophobics step back
1. Overview of the Urshilaku

I'd say that I've stayed pretty true to the world, though I haven't been everywhere, the only differences I can think of are that I added more Ashlander tribes; the Hinigabi, the Rweltowe, and the Fdeersinahlak. And I changed the prophecy to say, "born on the first day of the First Seed, to uncertain parents" since that way it makes more sense, since they kept the "certain day" open to accommodate RPer's and whatever else, this way the prophecy has one more requirement at least.

Hope you enjoy! R&R!

The kamizake winds blew violently over the Ashlands, scouring what little dirt managed to cling to the rocks free of their hold. The true Dunmer, called the Ashlanders by the invaders with their false gods, went on about their 'morning' business as if the sky was clear as 'day'.

Though the truth is that there is no true 'day' or 'night' or 'morning' or 'evening' in the harsh desert lands of Morrowind. The Ashlanders simply have their own internal clocks tuned to what they know is 'day' and 'night by their occasional visitors.

The invaders call them savages, though they are the only true people remaining in this benighted time, both for the Dwemer and the True Dunmer, though for opposite reasons.

Nothing much could shake the Urshilaku tribe's convictions though. That one day, probably soon, the Nerevarine would come, unite the meek and corrupt Great House Dunmer, unite the True Dunmer, and drive out the foreigners back to where they came from!

Though most tribes considered that prophecy little more than a myth, and Xe Feral, a herder of the Urshilaku, was no exception. Except, perhaps, in that his convictions were more fierce, and his faith in the Nerevarine, more unshakeable.

Xe Feral was born on the First of the First Seed, and he was born to unknown parents, and so some of the tribe believed that he was the Nerevarine, for though there already was a supposed Nerevarine, he was an outlander, and the Ashlanders have no love of outlanders at all.


	2. Reflections on the Loss of an Ashlander

The Nerevarine was truly something, not only was he an amzing fighter, and he had fulfilled the prophecies up to this point, for he did meet the first trial, and the Ashkhan had accepted him as the Nerevarine along with the Wise Woman, but he had the mark of the Nerevarine, the moon and star symbol, as a birthmark on his left hand, beyond that he was physically beautiful as well. A young Dunmer male, about the same age as Xe Feral, with medium-length red hair and bright red eyes, though without the tattoos that Xe Feral sported on his own face, circling his left eye and reaching to his ear and forehead, and without the wiry build and sharpness of features that would mark him as an Ashlander, he was tall and muscular, a true swordsman, and, though his face and hair style made one think he was idiotic at first, Xe Feral had seen him beat the Wise Woman at her riddle game when he came in for a poultice for his wrist.

At the thought of his injured left wrist, Xe Feral came back to reality. It still hurt his spirit to look at a bow, for he had once been the finest hunter in his tribe, and, with his own chitin bow, Godshot, blessed by the wise woman Nibani, he never missed. Well, he HAD never missed, now, due to an Orcish berzerker, landing a lucky blow to the tendon on his left wrist, he was lucky to have his hand, let alone be able to use it for anything. He gazed at the scar that the rusty iron axe had left across his wrist, a pale slsh against his dark grey skin.

Realizing that he had lost himself again he shook himself back to reality and herded his Guar charges toward their grazing grounds, along with the pride of his tribe, the White Guar, Nibani had said that it was a good omen it had come to them, Xe Feral just saw it as a paler, slightly larger version of the rest of his herd.

Omens and the rest of it could go hang, he just wanted three things, the Nerevarine to fulfil his duty and drive out the outlanders, a warm bed and skins in a warm, padded yurt with a warm fire, and the use of his hand again, so he could hold his bow and not just some clmsy sword.


End file.
